


The Tale of Yor, Being the Tale of the Fourth Clan

by Arwen Spicer (labingi)



Category: Original Work, The Continuation of Daughter
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-12
Updated: 2011-09-12
Packaged: 2017-10-23 16:16:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/252337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/labingi/pseuds/Arwen%20Spicer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The origin legend of the Ash'torian Clan Yor from the <i>Tales of the Nine Clans</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tale of Yor, Being the Tale of the Fourth Clan

**Author's Note:**

> This is a background religious text in the Continuation universe, often referenced in stories such as [Mercy](http://archiveofourown.org/works/225240) that include Ash'torian characters.

In the Wandering Days, long since eaten by time, in the deserts of Ra'Ebsyn dwelt a fine family of the Clan Khebyq. Though they stood high in honor and piety, the Great God Trahae, in his wisdom, had winnowed their numbers till only the aged mother and her twin sons remained.

Now in those days, bands of renegades beset the worlds of the Traedah, plundering heavyships and murdering their crews. But the Three Clans of the Nahajûn, as ever, gladdened in the call of war and, hornet-like, sped toward the blunt-footed enemy.

These twin sons of Clan Khebyq both were noble men, young and taut in lineaments in the expectation of glory. And both would have hastened to the battle were not their aged mother frail and in need of aid to till the fields. Therefore, they agreed that, to honor their mother, one brother must earn glory and one must harvest locusts.

Now, Medhebaq was firstborn and, by the Law, had the right to depart. With many prayers and colored carvings, he readied the family's only lightship and sought Trahae's blessing to smite the marauders with ship and hand. But on the night that he stood in prayer vigil on his final turn on Ra'Ebsyn, on that very night, his brother, Sylseq, crept to the lightship in his Medhebaq's stead. A flood of fire swept him skyward, and Medhebaq saw his glory fail like an upward-falling star. And though he longed to exact justice, his honor to his aged mother bound him to his home sands. So he tilled the hard earth of Ra'Ebsyn in obscurity.

* * *

Time ate six years and six again, and the war forged valiant hearts among many fine sons of the Nahajûn. With ship and hand, Sylseq delivered countless souls to the scales of Trahae. He won accolades, then generalship, and then a princess of the Clan Ahmahé. And all the while Medhebaq tilled the hard earth of Ra'Ebsyn to feed his mother.

But in the time of Trahae's choosing, his aged mother passed unto the scales. Then, Medhebaq, no longer young, bought passage on a lightship bound for war, thinking there to carve his belated name. But by the time he reached the war-space, the enemy's ships lay strewn vacuum-cold, the long day won and Sylseq its winner. And Sylseq's name stood high on the tongue of his wife's father of Ahmahé and his wife and sons and daughters. And seeing his brother's perfidy, thus, painted over by their honey glow, Medhebaq burned with wrath and called his brother before the Clans.

"How shall we pass judgment?" the Leaders asked each other. "Our souls cannot deny the love we owe to Sylseq, and yet the right lies with his brother."

Hearing their debate, Medhebaq cried, "Let Trahae judge as in times of old. I will challenge my brother to battle."

This challenge Sylseq accepted, and battle tested as he was, none imagined he could lose it. But scarcely had the duel begun when Medhebaq, by the hand of God, smote Sylseq across the brow and struck him to the floor and claimed victory.

"We none imagined he could lose," said the Clan Leaders to each other. "But Medhebaq, by the hand of Trahae, has struck his brother to the floor. Surely his is victory."

Then, Sylseq wept upon the stones and cried, "Trahae has judged me down. Kill me, Brother, for I deserve death."

Then, Medhebaq's soul was moved with pity, and he knelt on the stones and embraced his brother. "Nay, Brother," he said, "I forgive you. Return your children and the Ahmahem, your wife."

But Sylseq said, "I would disgrace them. Such is not in Trahae's judgment." And he fled the hall into the wastes.

* * *

Then, Medhebaq's soul was moved with grief, and he sorrowed to see, through his own challenge, his own brother turned retreater. For six years, he sought him in space and world, in the star's heat and the ice between the stars, until on a windswept plain he found him.

Sylseq turned and, seeing his pursuer, cried, "Kill me. I deserve death. I do not deserve more than death."

But Medhebaq said, "I cannot slay the brother whom I have forgiven. I pray that you now return home."

Once more Sylseq fled away. For six years more, Medhebaq pursued him, under oceans' weight and on the breathless heights, until he found him in the ruins of a war-shattered ship.

Sylseq turned and, seeing his pursuer, cried, "Kill me. I deserve death. I do not deserve more than death."

But Medhebaq said, "I cannot slay the brother whom I have forgiven. I pray that you now return unto your children."

Once more Sylseq fled away. For six more years, Medhebaq chased his shadow, through burnt-out hulls and vine-heavy jungle, until he found him on the sand-scoured bones of their own family's neglected fields.

"Kill me," cried Sylseq, "for I deserve death. In Trahae's name, I do not deserve more!"

But Medhebaq said, "I cannot slay the brother whom I have forgiven. I pray that you live with me in peace."

Then, Sylseq wailed in anguish and slit his own throat where he stood. So he died, as he lived, in dishonor, and his soul will not see Trahae in this Turn.

* * *

Then, Medhebaq's soul cracked with remorse, and he saw that his betrayal of Sylseq was vaster than Sylseq's of him. Once more, he rooted himself in his childhood fields of Khebyq, the dust of Sylseq beneath his feet. And he took under his nameplate the wife of Sylseq, and his sons and daughters, and lived on in sorrow with them. And whenever the Ahmahem, Sylseq's wife, saw him weeping, she asked him why, if he so hated life, he did not pray for death.

And Medhebaq answered, "I do not deserve death. I deserve more than death."

Time ate six years and six again, and Sylseq's family so prospered under Medhebaq's husbandry that the Clan Leaders named Medhebaq a Clan and judged unto him the name of "Yor," which signifies "surrender to the will of Trahae." This is the Tale of Medhebaq Khebyq Yor.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This story is not intended as a commentary on any existing religious tradition.


End file.
